


Rule Number 43

by thegrrrl2002



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-18
Updated: 2011-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrrrl2002/pseuds/thegrrrl2002
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda to 2.09 "Ike Maka". Danny shows Steve his new place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rule Number 43

"See? Tell me that house isn't adorable," Danny says as they pull into the driveway.

The house is a traditional Hawaiian bungalow, with a small front porch and a peaked roof. It's painted bright white and has blue shutters on big, long windows. It's gorgeous.

Steve eyes the house for a moment, then shrugs. "It's okay."

"It's okay? Is that all you can say? 'Okay'?" Danny gets out of the car, shaking his head. "This house, despite it's close proximity to your house, is more than okay. And you know it."

They head up the walkway to the front door and Danny slips the keys into the lock--his keys, to his new place, where he's going to live, because it's perfect for him and Gracie.

"That's not much of a lock," Steve says, frowning. "I mean, look at this--" He holds the door open and flips the deadlock back and forth. "Anyone could open this."

"Yes, Steven, anybody can. As long as they have a key. I'll have you know that's a new lock, top of the line, so just give it up, okay?"

He pushes Steve through the door and into the living room. "This is the living room. Nice and big, huh? The place comes partially furnished," he says, waving a hand at the couch. "I might move this to the wall over here, and the TV over to here--what?"

Steve is poking a finger into the couch cushions, then leans over and wrinkles his nose as he sniffs loudly. "When was the last time this thing was shampooed?"

"My couch does not smell. I know that for a fact." Danny knows that because he tested the couch out thoroughly, stretching out on it face down, checking to see if he could nap comfortably while watching TV. "What is with you?"

"Nothing is with me." Steve's got his indignant face on now.

Danny leads him though the living room and into the small kitchen. "Perhaps you'd like to come and criticize my kitchen now? Maybe make fun of the lovely dining area?"

Steve stands in the middle of the kitchen, arms folded across his chest. "No, no, it's fine."

"Fine? Did I heard you say 'it's fine'?"

Steve nods. "I mean, the stove is a little small, and the sink, don't you think it's a little shallow?"

"No," Danny says. "I think you're a little shallow, but--what are you doing?"

Steve is turning the water on and off, watching the water flow down the drain. He jiggles the facet, which is not at all loose, then ducks down and opens the cabinet beneath and runs a hand along the pipes below.

"No, the pipes do not leak. What are you, Mike Holmes now?" Danny asks. "Are you going to tell me that's not up to code?"

Straightening up, Steve slams the cabinet shut. "Building codes exist for a reason, Danny."

Danny throws his hands into the air. "Oh, you're an expert now? You know what? No more HGTV marathons for you. Ever."

Steve turns to the stove, switching on all the burners and waving his hand over the electric elements.

"The stove works, Steven. That stove, right there, where I will cook pancakes for Gracie on Sunday mornings--no, do not give me that face, my pancakes are excellent," Danny insists. "And since you're right up the road, you can join us for breakfast because that will make my little monkey smile."

Steve's face goes soft for a moment, which is actually kind of sweet. And that's the thing about Steve, he can go soft and sweet in an instant, in a way that gets under Danny's skin, makes Danny forget how Steve can make him absolutely crazy, with all his house rules and regulations and baffling contradictions.

"Okay, show me the bathroom."

Danny proudly shows Steve his freshly tiled bathroom. The white walls gleam, the black and white floor mosaic sparkles in the sunlight. "My bathroom," he says with a sweeping gesture. "Where I will take showers that last more than three minutes. Maybe I'll get crazy and linger for five whole minutes."

Steve slides the shower door open and examines the fixtures with a critical eye.

"Oh, wait, being that this is my shower, I may spend an hour in there, just basking in the glory of hot water, spraying down from my rainfall shower head--" Danny has to stop there, to try and keep from laughing. The look of horror on Steve's face, it's just too much.

"That's not right, Danny."

"Yes, yes it is right. It's very right. Showers were meant to be enjoyed, to be savored. A good hot shower is one of the finer things in life and I swear, one of these days I'm going to drag you in there so you'll see--" Danny clamps his mouth shut. He does not need to be thinking about showering with Steve, that's not where the conversation was mean to go, in the direction of wet, naked Steve. In his shower.

Danny blinks, lost in the moment.

"Uh," Steve says, turning away from Danny. He stares at the wall, then the ceiling. "So. Is there a fan in here? Because right up there, that looks like mold." He points to the corner of the ceiling.

"What?" Danny shoves Steve aside, steps up onto the toilet seat and carefully checks out the pristine ceiling. "No, there's no mold, there's no nothing, this wall was just painted, and yes, there is an exhaust fan."

He turns to stare down at Steve. Which he can do, since he's standing up on the toilet. It's nice to have the advantage, even briefly. "What is wrong with you? Why can't you like my new place? Are you that caught up in your ridiculous rules? You, my friend, have issues. Issues with a capital 'I'."

Steve spins on his heel and walks out of the bathroom. "Are bedrooms this way?" he calls out from the hall.

Danny rolls his eyes as he hops down from the toilet. "Mine is on the right, and Gracie's is at the end of the hall."

He follows Steve around the bedrooms, watching as Steve checks the windows (no, there's no dry rot around the frame), examines Danny's closet (yes Steve, my extensive wardrobe of button-down shirts will fit in there), flicks the light switches on and off (no, there's no short in the wire, that crackling sound you hear is in your head).

Finally, he leads Steve out into the back yard, with it's small grassy lawn and flowering shrubs and the big palm all the way in the back. "Nice, huh? I can get a grill, do some barbecuing--I grill up a mean tuna steak, you're going to love it."

Steve blinks at him. "Tuna steak? Seriously?"

"Do not mock my grilling abilities."

"Okay, okay." Steve nods. "This is a lot of grass, are you willing to deal with all the maintenance involved?" He bounces on his feet. "Ground feels a little spongy. How's the drainage back here?"

"Stop it," Danny barks, exasperated. "Just stop it, right now, and tell me what your problem is. And hey, hey," he holds up a finger. "Do not deny there is a problem."

Steve expression goes stubborn and mulish. "There is no problem, Danny."

"Yes, yes there. You are nothing but one big problem." Danny flops down on the ground. The very dry, grassy ground. "Look at this place. It's perfect."

Steve crouches down beside him, carefully patting the ground before sitting.

"It's not wet," Danny snaps. "Now, what is with you? You say this place is too close, but the only other option for me to move back in with you, and while your couch is actually quite comfortable, it would put me a lot closer to you than this house would."

"Danny--"

"And when I was living further away, in the little studio apartment that you hated--"

"That was a crappy place, Danny. You know it."

"Hey, hey, I'm talking here, and you're not. All right?" Danny holds finger up and yes, he will put a hand over Steve's mouth if he has too. "I spent most of my time with you, in your house, because you invited me over, and made me go hiking with you, and grocery shopping and joyriding in your ridiculous car, tried to make me go surfing--"

"That's different."

"It is not different. And after that, you showed up at my moldy hotel room every five minutes," Danny continued.

"Because I thought place was hazardous to your health. And I was right, wasn't I?" Steve asks. "Wasn't I?"

Danny huffs out a breath, leans back on his arms and gazes up at his home. His lovely new home. Where he is going to live. "Okay," he says, agreeing even though it makes Steve unbearably smug. "Yes, Steven, you were right."

"Thank you."

And there it is, right on cue. Steve's smug face. It's annoying. So annoying that Danny has to sit up, lean close and ask, "Just tell me, what is it with you and boundaries? Your personal boundaries, they are either one micron wide or a hundred miles, it changes all the time, like you're pulling me close with one hand and pushing me away with the other. It doesn't make any sense. You, Steven, do not make sense."

"I don't make sense? Me?" Steve pulls himself up straight, indignation in full bloom now. "It's you who doesn't make sense, Danny. You."

"Me? How could it be me? You're the one with all the insane rules--"

"Rules are important."

"Yes, yes, some rules are, but you, you are wrapped a little too tight," Danny says. "You need to relax a little, let your hair down. Break a McGarrett rule or two. The world won't come to an end."

"Oh really? You want me to break a rule?"

"Yes." Danny leans close and pokes a finger at Steve's chest. His impressively hard chest.

Steve nods, his face grim and determined. "Okay."

He leans forward and kisses Danny, on the lips. It's a gentle kiss, his mouth surprisingly soft and Danny's pretty sure his heart stops beating, the kiss is that amazing, better than he had ever dreamed it could be. When Steve tries to pull away Danny follows with a small, desperate noise and kisses Steve again, and again, until Steve wraps an arm around Danny's shoulder and pulls him down. Danny ends up stretched out over Steve in the fragrant grass, his hips pressed snug against Steve's hips and Steve's hands sliding over his back as they keep on kissing.

"What rule was that" Danny asks breathlessly.

"Rule number 43," Steve says, licking his lips. "Do not, under any circumstance, fall for your very irritating, very male, partner."

"Oh, babe." Danny grins as he noses Steve's cheek. "Some rules were meant to be broken."

Steve pulls him into another kiss, rough and hungry and perfect and oh yeah, Danny's going to make Steve break _all_ the rules, starting with that shower, and he's going to love every single damn minute of it.


End file.
